


The Past Is Another Country

by ruric



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: comment_fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-08
Updated: 2009-03-08
Packaged: 2017-11-13 18:03:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/506223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruric/pseuds/ruric
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing scene from 4x14: Outcast. The night before returning to Atlantis (post the funeral for Sheppard's dad and after the replicator issues have been resolved).</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Past Is Another Country

Ronon’s never doubted that he should be at Sheppard’s side. 

Sheppard is his – his to watch over and protect – and his to support, if Sheppard accepts it. Ronon knows how it feels to lose a father, even one you haven’t talked to in years, and somebody needed to be here with Sheppard.

He likes Sheppard, but even after two years Ronon’s still sometimes confused by him. 

He’s come to terms with the fact Sheppard doesn’t lead his team or his men the way a Satedan taskmaster would – and, on the whole, Ronon’s of the opinion this is a good thing.

He likes that Sheppard, unlike McKay or Beckett, doesn’t need to talk every little thing through. Being with Sheppard can be as calming as being with Teyla there are expectations, actions and reactions, but there’s no need to endlessly talk about them.

Ronon knows that seven years as a runner has left him low on social skills – he remembers what it felt like to have those skills. He’s just not sure he wants to open himself up to being so vulnerable ever again. He survived by building walls and compartmentalising his life. The walls are slowly coming down. Dealing with the compartmentalisation is giving him a lot more to think about.

Neither he or Sheppard are much for _talking_ but with missions and downtime and time spent recovering from injuries they shared enough that he thought he was beginning to build up a picture of Sheppard’s life. 

Until the funeral where he met the big brother he’s never heard of and the ex-wife he has.

Back at the hotel room Ronon’s trying to adjust the view he had of Sheppard. Not so much a man alone but a man with resources, connections and ties – ties to Earth and to family.

Looking out the window at the lights of the city he’s reminded of Sateda and everything he’s lost. 

“Are you OK?”

He’s been thinking so much of home and the past that he didn’t even hear Sheppard pad from the bathroom to stand behind him – and the irony of Sheppard’s question isn’t lost on him. He turns his back to the glass to the lights of a city he’ll never get to know. 

“I’m fine.”

Sheppard’s fresh from the shower, wet hair standing up in spikes, a towel slung low around his hips, dark circles under his eyes and a tautness about his mouth that Ronon doesn’t like. Even with Weir’s approval and an expedited pass it’d taken them two days to get here, the IOA insisting on a debriefing before they’d let Ronon out of the mountain. Then they’d had the problem with the replicator. Ronon’s had time to go back to Atlantis, report to Weir and return to bring Sheppard...home. Except Ronon’s not so sure any more that Atlantis is _home_ for Sheppard.

The hands held out from his body, the narrowing of his eyes and the tic in his cheek are all the signals Ronon needs to know Sheppard’s battling his reluctance to speak about something personal and Ronon’s shaking his head even as Sheppard’s sucking in a breath and stumbling over words.

“I....you...I didn’t tell you about him because it’s complicated.”

Sheppard’s staring at the floor as if it will suddenly reveal the words he’s looking for.

“Okay.”

Sheppard looks up and scowls at him and Ronon ducks his head, peers at Sheppard from behind his hair and he might’ve forgotten a lot but he still remembers how to misdirect.

“Your wife’s pretty.”

“Ex-wife. And wait – are you jealous?”

“Not if she stay’s an ex...no.”

Sheppard laughs and some of the tension eases out of his body but then his gaze settles on Ronon’s face and the laughter dies.

“My brother, Dave, he thinks we’re together.”

“That bother you?”

Ronon doesn’t get Earth morality and hang ups, doesn’t think he ever will because his experience on Sateda, of the closeness between taskmaster, unit and squadron won’t ever map onto the way things are structured on Earth, and to a lesser extent Atlantis. 

“No. Not unless he suddenly decides to rat me out to command and I don’t think that’s likely.”

This time it’s Ronon who reaches out, hands finding still damp skin, tracing the curve of shoulder, stepping closer so he can press the palms of his hands flat against Sheppard’s back and feel the shudder go though his body.

Grief he understands. Compartmentalisation too. You put things in boxes and close the lid on them because sometimes it’s the only way you can keep functioning.

“You ready to go?”

Sheppard’s fingers wind into his hair, pull his head back and the eyes that are looking at him have a little less sadness and a little more humor in them.

“You want us to waste a perfectly good opportunity for a little privacy? Tomorrow’s soon enough for us to head home.”

And the band that’s been tight around Ronon’s chest for four days releases and he can breathe again.


End file.
